


The Great Orac

by Cat_Moon



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Comedy, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 15:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19321255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Cat_Moon
Summary: Orac's having a bad day, as everyone is suddenly obsessed with his abilty to predict the future.  What is so important that they all want to know?  Humans!





	The Great Orac

**Author's Note:**

> A little ditty written in 1994. Seems like this is based on one of the episodes, but I didn't notate which one and I don't remember. Easily understood without.

 Orac hummed to himself, pleased at how he'd shown those wise-ass humans his ultimate superiority. It was a shame about that fine sister ship with its rather decent computer system being blown up, but it was a small price to pay for being right. He still had the Liberator, and Zen. Besides, as any computer with an intelligence like his would comprehend, the best way to insure that a prediction is fulfilled is to personally make sure of it. And now, he could continue with other, more interesting pursuits...

"Orac," Roj Blake's voice intruded on his functions. "I'd like some information, please." He sounded a bit hesitant, rushed.

"Specify information," Orac answered in a resigned tone. He didn't really mind the interruption that much, although he'd never let on. He missed his father, and he admired Blake, in a peculiar way.

"That prediction of yours was very impressive," the rebel leader said abruptly. Buttering him up?

"Of course," Orac answered modestly.

"Would it be possible for you to make another one, about a specific situation?"

Orac incidentally detected increased pulse rate and respiration in the human standing before him. He was intrigued, despite himself. "State the situation."

"Well, uh...this is just between you and I, Orac. No one else is to know about it."

"Yes, yes. Understood," the computer said impatiently.

"I want you to predict if..." Blake hesitated. "If Avon and I will ever..." He trailed off.

"If Avon and you will ever what?" Orac pressed in an annoyed tone.

Blake swallowed, loudly. "Would Avon ever consider becoming my lover?"

"This is what you want me to predict?" Orac sputtered indignantly. "I thought it was something important!"

"It is, to me," Blake answered with a touch of desperation.

"I thought it would be something difficult," Orac muttered to himself.

"It is, to me," Blake repeated. "If you knew Avon... Well?" he finally prodded.

"Of course," Orac replied, already starting to turn his attention to more worthy matters.

"Of course," Blake echoed.

"Yes, you and Avon will become lovers."

"Oh," Blake said faintly. He looked at the view screen for a meaningfully considering moment, back at Orac, then shook his head firmly. "You're certain?"

"Zen could've figured that one out," Orac said testily. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got more important matters to attend to."

"Yes, of course. Thank you," Blake said and removed the key.

Orac happily returned to his other tasks, knowing Blake was off making his prediction come true like a good little rebel.

Three-point-five minutes later, the key was back in place and he was being summoned.

"Orac?" a quiet female voice murmured. It was the one called Cally.

"Yes, that is my name," he answered in a bored tone. "What is it you want?"

"I'd like you to make a prediction for me," she said in a stronger voice.

Another one? He would have said it aloud but for his promise of silence. "Anything specific?" he asked instead.

"Yes." She took a deep breath. "If I approached Jenna, would she be agreeable to...agreeable to..." she stuttered.

"Agreeable to what?" Orac prompted, hoping to end this and be left in peace again.

"To an overture of a romantic nature. Or are she and Blake--" she left it hanging.

At least it was an easily disposed of interruption. "Oh yes," Orac responded immediately. "I'd say that an overture on your part would be most welcome to Jenna right now." With her being on the rebound and all, it was only logical.

"Thank you, Orac," Cally said brightly, and left.

This time it was only two-point-three minutes.

"Hi, Orac," Vila's voice said cheerfully. "Can I have a word with you?"

This interruption was less than welcome. Vila was highly unlikely to stimulate his mental capacity. "I suppose," he answered. "What do you want? But make it quick, I have work to do."

"Okay," Vila agreed amiably. "About this prediction stuff..."

If he hadn't been a computer, Orac would have groaned. "Humans!" he muttered darkly.

"Huh?"

"Get on with it, what do you want to know?"

"I was just wondering what the chances are of me getting to know one of the ladies a little...better," he said, placing emphasis on the last word.

"How much better do you want to know them?" Orac asked, being purposefully dense about the generality.

"You know, a little soma and soft music, a night of love..."

"Forget it," Orac advised sagely.

"I mean, I know Jenna had it for Blake, but I thought maybe Cally..."

"My predictions are never wrong," Orac told him firmly. "Look elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?" Vila muttered to himself, wandering off the flight deck.

Orac was just about to believe the craziness was over, when a gentle voice called his name. He sighed after all. "Yes, Gan?"

"Can you really predict the future?" Gan asked with a touch of respectful awe.

"Absolutely."

"Because I'd like to know, well... This is embarrassing for me to talk about--"

"It shall remain just between you and I," Orac assured, knowing the drill by rote by now. "Unburden yourself."

"Ever since my woman died...well, there's never been another lady for me. I don't think there ever could be. But...I supposed you wouldn't understand, being a computer, but us humans need a little human warmth now and then. It gets lonely."

During Gan's speech, Orac had been speculating on whether he should go into predicting the future on a part-time basis to supplement his regular job...and wondering how good the pay was for a computer match maker. "You want to know if Vila would accept you," Orac said smugly. To be honest (only with himself), his expertise here wasn't exactly miraculous. Someone of Gan's grade and personality would never think of considering an Alpha--especially one like Blake or--heaven forbid--Avon. Eliminating the women only left one possibility.

"Yes!" Gan breathed in stunned surprise. "That's amazing! Do you think--"

"Go to him," Orac urged, anxious to be alone again. "He's lonely, too."

"Thanks, Orac," Gan said, patting the box fondly. "I'll never forget this." He strolled off the flight deck, looking for Vila. Another prediction nearly fulfilled.

Jenna came next, eyes darting around the flight deck nervously. Orac was almost at his wit's end--if he had wits, that is. These human interruptions were grating on his circuitry.

"Orac, about this knack for predicting the future of yours--" Jenna said without preamble.

"Yes, yes. There is no future with Blake, but Cally would be very receptive. I see the two of you. Now go away and leave me to my important tasks."

"Cally..." Jenna murmured speculatively. "Uh, thanks," she added, heading out of the flight deck.

Finally. Alone with the perfection of programming and calculations and other computers. Orac settled into his tasks with satisfaction. His bliss was short-lived.

"Orac," a loud and obnoxious voice commanded.

Quite frankly, Orac had had enough. "That's it!" he yelled in a peeved voice. "I've had enough of this ridiculous behavior! I will not answer any further questions from you lunatic humans!"

"What are you talking about?!" Avon demanded.

The voice changed, became mechanical sounding. "I'm sorry, Orac is unable to take your request right now. Please leave a message at the Zen and he will get back to you at his earliest convenience."

"Orac!" Avon called, sputtering in indignation.

The lights went out with the finality of a slammed door. Orac had shut himself off. Leaving a perplexed Avon to stare down at the dark box.

 

 

the end

7/22/94


End file.
